The Devil's Own
by smithsbabe65
Summary: Sylaire Re edited. Linderman is at it again, screwing around with innocent people’s lives for his own evil gain. This time, with the intervention of his old collaborator Angela Petrelli, they've created the ulitmate weapon against Sylar.


**The Devil's Own**

**Summary: **Based on the series Heroes. Well, Linderman is at it again, screwing around with innocent people's lives for his own evil gain. This time, with the intervention of his old collaborator Angela Petrelli, he has finally created the ultimate weapon against the heroes' greatest enemy, Gabriel Gray.

**A/N:** This is my first Heroes fic, so please be kind…non-con, and very AU. One shot - Rated M for underage rape, pregnancy and violent themes. I own nothing related to Heroes. All characters are the property of Tim Kring and NBC.

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_Mount Sinai Medical Center_, _mid-town Manhattan 4:35 a.m._

The heavy metal doors of the hospital's emergency entrance swung open violently allowing a wild torrent of wind and rain to herald the arrival of a young girl being wheeled into the trauma unit in a wheelchair by an attendant.

The muffled sound of thunder could still be heard through the antiseptic corridors of the hospital as a midsummer storm wailed and raged across the New York skyline. The world below drowned under the heavy deluge. And despite every effort to keep herself dry, the young girl had been drenched by the downpour. Her golden curls were now saturated through and through and plastered to the sides of her terror stricken face.

An older woman trailed along beside her as she shook out then closed a large black umbrella. Impeccably dressed and coiffed, even at that ungodly hour of the morning, the expression on her face was a composite of grim determination and grave concern. However, for the sake of her young charge, she was resolute to display the steely fortitude that she was well known for.

Trying her best to reassure the terrified girl, she offered her hand in comfort. "Everything will be all right, dear. You just hold onto my hand."

The young girl however, instantly recoiled from the hand being presented to her. She had nothing but contempt for the person she held most responsible for her current predicament: the woman standing beside her. The last thing she wanted was to be coddled or comforted by someone that lacked the capacity for compassion or kindness.

Narrowing her hate-filled eyes, Claire Bennett forced herself to look up at the vile woman, who wore her elegant clothes like suit of armor. She exuded the power that only old money could bring. Her deportment was cold and aloof, far from anything that the 19 year old girl was accustomed to.

Claire had been raised for the first 16 years of her young life in a home full of warmth and love, with a family that genuinely cared about her.

Her childhood and early adolescence had been idyllic and happy. That is, until her powers manifested themselves and she found out who her birth parents were, turning her perfect world upside down. And nothing was ever the same after that.

Claire sighed as she shook her head. She couldn't believe she was actually related to this dragon lady. But by a cruel twist of fate sadly it was true. She was Claire's paternal grandmother, Angela Petrelli.

When their eyes met, Claire mustered up the courage to ask in a raspy voice laced with disgust and fear.

"Where's my father? He should be here!"

Mrs. Petrelli gazed down at her granddaughter and stated coldly. "I'm sorry, Claire. But with Congress in session, Nathan just couldn't get away right now. You know this."

Then as an afterthought, Angela added gently, "He _does_ send his love."

As they turned a corner to go towards the admissions wing, Claire felt the unwelcome onslaught of another searing contraction course through her body. Tears rolled down her pretty little face as it contorted with a mixture of loathing and pain. Gripping the rails of her wheelchair, her knuckles turned white as she waited for the wave of agony in her belly to subside.

Frantically, she tried to remember her breathing exercises from her Lamaze class. She had done so well and her Uncle Peter had been a great coach.

_He should be here! _Her mind raged. Racked with pain and the fear of the unknown, Claire desperately needed someone that truly cared about her, now more than ever.

But Peter was gone. He had promised to be here, to help her through this. But he was on the West Coast with Mohinder Suresh, chasing down yet another lead on Sylar's whereabouts.

Apparently the brain-eating bastard had gone another killing spree in the Pacific Northwest. Unconfirmed reports had flooded into both the Company and the Linderman Group about a mysterious assailant targeting meta-humans for their abilities, leaving a trail of carnage in his wake.

The killer's M.O. was the same, always leaving the remnants of brainless corpses for the authorities to find at every bloody crime scene. Convinced that this latest rash of murders could only be the work of Sylar, Peter and Dr. Suresh had been quickly dispatched by her adoptive father, Noah Bennett to investigate the goings on in Oregon. With Mr. Bennett at the helm, they now had the full support and resources of the restructured Company at their disposal.

When Claire had found out about her uncle's unexpected departure, she had been immediately crushed.

"Peter, you can't go! Not now, not when I'm so close to my due date. I need you!"

Peter had held his expectant niece close, kissing the top of her head, murmuring words of comfort. "Claire, sweetie, it'll be okay. You're not due for weeks yet. I'll be back soon. I promise."

But Claire took little solace in his reassurances. She was afraid for Peter and what would happen if he were to confront Sylar again. He had barely survived their last encounter.

And when her water broke in the wee hours of this particular morning, exactly two weeks earlier than expected, Claire knew that Peter would not make it back to New York in time.

As for her biological father, Congressman Nathan Petrelli, he cared more about his fucking political career than his own pregnant daughter. He couldn't even take the time to be here for the birth of his first grandchild. No, he was too busy rubbing elbows with his Washington cronies to give a shit about her.

Saddened by this turn events, Claire longed for the one person that had always protected and loved her above all else.

"I meant my _real_ father, Noah Bennett! Have you called him yet?" Claire angrily spat at her grandmother.

Again, Angela addressed her grandchild with a condescending tone. "There is no need for Noah to be here. Besides, he has his hands full running the Company for us. Don't forget Claire, you are a Petrelli now. Any ties you had with the Bennett family were severed the day Nathan officially acknowledged your paternity."

_Fuck you, you old witch! _Claire's thoughts immediately broadcasted the detestation she felt for her grandmother, knowing full well that Angela's telepathy would hear her loud and clear.

"Now, now dear, is that anyway to _talk_ to your grandmother?" Mrs. Petrelli chided her granddaughter out loud.

Silence reigned again as they quickly approached admissions desk. Claire could now see that there already two people waiting for them. One was her kindly obstetrician, Dr. Saperstein. With his full white beard, jovial demeanor and the grandfatherly twinkle in his bespectacled blue eyes, he reminded Claire of a modern-day St. Nicholas.

The other person made Claire's stomach turn at the mere sight of him. He was definitely someone that she could do without seeing, ever again.

The second man broke away from Dr. Saperstein to approach Mrs. Petrelli with confident strides. When he finally stood in front of Claire and her small entourage, the attendant that had been pushing her along, immediately halted. Disgusted, the former high school cheerleader watched as an affectionate kiss was placed on each of her grandmother's cheeks.

As the man withdrew, he took Mrs. Petrelli's hands in his as he gazed excitedly at Angela and then at Claire.

"Well, Angela. The moment we've worked for is finally at hand. Our little Claire will soon bring forth a miracle."

Mrs. Petrelli smiled warmly as she concurred with her long-time colleague and former lover. "Yes, I believe so."

Patting her granddaughter on her shoulder, she prompted Claire to acknowledge the man hovering above her. "My dear, don't be rude. Say hello to Mr. Linderman. After all, he is your _grandfather,_ you know."

As another bolt of pain whipped through her swollen body, Claire managed to say between her clenched teeth, "Yeah, don't remind me."

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She knew all about her grandmother's illicit affair with Linderman in the late sixties and that her father Nathan was the fruit of that union. However, to protect the good name and reputation of the Petrelli family, the truth of Nathan's parentage had been kept secret for decades, until now.

The reasons behind the sudden and great revelation of Claire's family origins had remained for the most part unclear. All she had been told from the moment her pregnancy had been detected was that now she needed the strength and protection that only her grandfather could provide. Only Mr. Linderman, with his vast fortune, political connections and dubious ties to organized crime could keep Claire and her unborn child safe from the one force on earth that was determined to find them.

But Claire often wondered how long could Linderman's hired mercenaries hold her child's father at bay before _he_ actually showed up to claim what he perceived to be rightfully his?

The young mother-to-be feared that it would only be a matter of time before the man that had sired the life struggling to surge forth from her body would come for her and her baby.

Fear stabbed at her heart as her mind conjured up the image of the man that she reviled and desired with equal measure. For the last two years, he had been her relentless pursuer and the source of Claire's never ending nightmares. And it seemed no matter where she went he had never been too far behind, always lurking in the shadows, biding his time until he could strike out and consume what he had most coveted: her power.

Or so she thought.

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_Nine months ago…_

After months of running and hiding from the murdering madman that plagued Claire's nightmares, he had finally found her. He came for Claire, to steal her away from her grandmother's house in the middle of the night like bloodthirsty creature from the underworld.

From the moment Claire opened her sleepy eyes and looked upon his sinister presence looming over her bed, she tried to scream for help. But the crafty, skillful bastard immediately silenced her with his power.

Her heart began to race as he leered hungrily at her, tracing the outline of her scantily clad body with his eyes. Claire could see the murderous glint in his dark piercing gaze.

Fear gripped her in its icy embrace. She sincerely believed that he would waste no time to exact his revenge on her. After all, she had made him wait an eternity for her power. At any moment he would split her skull wide open and scoop out his prize, Claire was sure of it.

But to her horror, Claire soon learned that killing her was not his intention that night, not anymore. Instead he quickly immobilized her body just as he had her voice with just a turn of his wrist and a flick of a finger. Next he lifted her effortlessly into his arms, and then stealthily made his escape through her bedroom window, before anyone in the Petrelli mansion could be alerted to his presence.

As she lay limply in his powerful arms, Claire was amazed that he hadn't tripped the alarm or roused the ravenous hunger of the ferocious watchdogs. She was now convinced that he had actually disabled both security measures with his abilities.

After that, Claire was placed into the back seat of black, late model sedan. Subsequently, the young girl began to feel very groggy, as if she were suddenly under the influence of a very potent sedative. As she slipped further into oblivion, Claire barely made out the sounds of her abductor sliding into the driver's seat, the slamming of the car door, then the engine turning over.

Claire's final thoughts, as her world steadily faded to black, were an amalgamation of confusion and fear.

_Did he drug me_, she wondered fuzzily.

_No wait…he didn't_.

Claire finally succumbed to the artificially induced fatigue with the full knowledge that she had actually been _willed _into a state of unconsciousness.

_The son-of-a-bitch probably accomplished that feat by means of another one of his abilities. More than likely it was an undeserved gift ripped right out of the skull of one of his many victims._

When Claire Bennett finally regained awareness, she had no notion of where she was. All she knew was that she was now lying top of a bed in what appeared to be a dingy motel room, probably miles away from salvation.

And then that's when she saw _him_, silently sitting in a darkened corner of the room watching her intently like a hungry rabid wolf waiting to pounce.

"Hello, Claire." His voice was soft and silky, brushing over her skin like a lover's touch.

Something in the tone of his voice pushed her panic button into overdrive. Urgently, Claire tried to move her extremities. However, she soon discovered that he had full control of her limbs, rendering her attempt to escape pathetically futile. Try as she might, the indestructible cheerleader was now powerless to break free from the invisible restraints that held her captive.

"What are you waiting for?" Claire called out to him, trying to sound brave.

His only retort was a disquieting calm; his reply, utter silence.

Frustrated and scared out of her wits, Claire just wanted this dreadful ordeal to be over. Defeated, she resigned herself to the inevitable. Claire was tired of running and hiding from him. If her power was what he wanted, then he was welcome to it. She just didn't care anymore.

"If you going to kill me do it and get it over with! Isn't that what you want, you murdering _asshole_?! Go on, DO IT!" She screeched in a high-pitched voice, daring him to take her life.

After few more moments of unsettling stillness, she finally heard his deliberate drawl, "Now, Claire, if I really wanted to kill you, I would have done it hours ago. No, killing you would be a _mistake._ I know that now."

"What the _hell_ are you babbling about?"

Gracefully, he rose from his chair, then using his power of levitation; he eerily glided over to the bed in mid-air to glare down at the beautiful young creature that was splayed across the mattress.

"I'm talking about _evolutionary imperative_, my sweet, sweet Claire. The need for the dominate species on the planet to _breed_ and produce superior offspring."

Claire's mouth went completely dry.

"Oh my God, you don't mean…?"

He smirked at her then stated softly, "Yes, Claire, that's exactly what I mean. _Save the cheerleader, save the world_, remember? Only Hiro and that ass-wipe of an uncle of yours got it wrong. I've seen the future, Claire and I know now that _I_ should have been the one to save you, not them!"

"But Peter did save me, from YOU!"

Claire watched him move his head from side to side as his smile broadened. "Well princess, the part that Uncle Pete _failed_ to mention was that you were meant for greater things."

Looking up at him, Claire had begun to stammer. "I-I don't understand…"

Placing his large hands on other side her pillow, he leaned in so that his stubbled face was only inches away from hers. When he finally opened his mouth again to speak, Claire could feel his hot breath scorch her tender skin.

"You, Claire, are the mother of the future. I've _seen_ it. You will give birth to a child that will herald in a new age for humanity. A whole new race of superior beings will take over and dominate every facet of human existence on Earth in less than two decades, all thanks to you. Think of it Claire, no longer will people have to be restricted by mediocrity. They will be able to explore the full potential of their mental and physical capabilities!"

He was now trembling all over as he spoke. And Claire began to see the true extent of his insanity. Suddenly, the young girl had a horrifying epiphany. It was all started to come together, like the pieces of some bizarre puzzle. She clearly understood that the all-consuming obsession for her power had twisted and transformed itself into something even more monstrous and terrifying.

If she was the mother of the so-called future, then _HE_ had every intention of siring it with his ill-begotten seed.

_Oh my God!_

There, flickering like a flame within black pits of his eyes, she saw his warped purpose. As inexperienced as she was in the ways of men, Claire still recognized sexual desire. It was the same deviant look that had possessed Brody Mitchum when he had tried to rape her three years earlier.

And all at once, the familiar sickening sensation of foreboding slowly crept up her spine.

She had every right to be frightened. The dark man that was now looking intently at her had the same look of rampant need, a voracious lust that could only be sated by the possession of her young ripe body.

Her voice cracked as she pleaded with him, "Please don't do this…"

He smiled down at her. It would have been an almost tender expression of affection, if Claire didn't find it to be so revolting.

"I have to Claire. Don't you see, don't you _understand_? It's our _destiny_ to be together. You were saved so that you could be mine!"

"You're fucking crazy!"

Smirking evilly at her, he said sarcastically, "Crazy about you, baby girl. Funny you should use the word 'fucking', because that's _exactly_ what I had in mind."

As she began to whimper, he slowly began his seduction by using his powers against her, holding Claire down on that filthy mattress against her will. Helpless, all she could do was watch in horror as his powerful mind deliberately willed her clothes to be torn right off her body, leaving her vulnerable and shivering.

"You're so beautiful, Claire!" she heard him exclaim reverently.

"Go to hell!" the frightened girl hissed definitely. With a smug grin on his face, he withdrew so that he could slowly undress, exposing his well toned form to her one section at a time.

When his dark clothes were completely removed from his body, Claire once again felt his approach. She quivered all over with fear, despite his telekinetic hold on her.

Then at last he stood before her, naked, boldly displaying himself to her frightened yet curious eyes.

Claire quickly tried to look away, but her head was abruptly snapped back into its original position simply because he wished it to be so. He was going to force her to look at him. And there wasn't a thing she could do about it. When her teary gaze did take in his nude form, her heart nearly stopped beating.

Claire was astounded by what she saw.

_My God, he's fucking gorgeous!_

In the face of the total contempt she felt for the man, she actually found herself appreciating his body. The sight of his well defined torso, sculpted arms and legs made her desire things she shouldn't.

She now felt the rosy nipples of her round firm breasts become taut and erect as the fevered blush of humiliation tinged her smooth pale skin. Her treacherous hormones had betrayed her. Enraged by her own weakness, Claire felt hot salty tears sting her eyes.

"Do you like what you see, Claire?" he asked huskily. "I know you do. I can _smell_ your arousal all the way from here."

And he was right, in spite of everything, she couldn't deny it. Claire was actually _turned on_ by him.

Chuckling evilly over her easy defeat, he decided it was time to finally join her on the rickety bed. Claire held her breath as he busily positioned himself between her legs to take what he had wanted so badly, so desperately.

Quickly, Claire tried to use the only weapon she had left to delay the inevitable, her voice.

"You don't have to do this. You can have my power, take it, it's yours."

Gazing thoughtfully at her for a moment, it seemed that he was actually considering her proposal. After a while, much to Claire's disappointment, he recommenced to ravage her.

Weakly, she had begged him to stop, to have mercy on her. He could have silenced her by telekinetically crushing her vocal cords, but her cries for clemency only fueled his sick passions.

Powerless to stop her assailant, Claire resigned herself to her terrible fate. The young girl braced herself as best she could for the onslaught.

But when she heard him whisper softly in her ear, "I don't want to hurt you, Claire. I'll take it slow, since this is your first time." She was shocked to her very core.

Next her breath suddenly hitched when she felt him start to slowly enter her, inch by inch. Claire then closed her eyes, refusing to look upon the expression of utter joy on his unshaven face. As tears rolled down her cheeks, he commanded that she open her eyes to look at him. When she denied him, he utilized his superior mental faculties to force her eyelids open.

There looming above her illuminated by moonlight was the face of her rapist, the man that would be forever engrained into her memory for stealing her innocence.

_Sylar_.

"I've wanted this for so long. You have no idea," he murmured into her fragrant honey-colored tresses. As his trembling hands kneaded and caressed her soft, supple skin, Sylar's entire body shook as his need for her consumed him. His eager lips glided across her skin before his teeth playfully nibbled on her neck.

Groaning loudly, he drew his pelvis back then brought it forward with a carefully calculated thrust. He smiled triumphantly when he felt the thin barrier of her virginity give way to his engorged manhood.

Claire hissed through the pain caused by the invasion of her tight virgin channel. But Sylar was mindful of this, so he waited until her body became accustom to his girth.

After ensuring that Claire's discomfort had subsided somewhat, he began to rock his hips forward. In and out and in out he went. His rhythm was steady and precise like a pendulum. Sylar moaned and gasped as he reveled in the pleasure he was taking from the immobile girl lying beneath him. He knew she would feel good. But he never dreamed that Claire would actually feel this wonderful.

"Oh baby, you're so _tight_!" he groaned loudly.

And all Claire could do was pray for death as she watched the man that had once targeted her for extinction, hover above her now, violating her body mercilessly.

Sylar's breathing was becoming more ragged as he began to move faster and faster. As he continued to pound into her flesh, Claire knew the end was near, and that this nightmare would be over, for the moment. Very soon, when Sylar's sweat drenched body finally began to shudder, Claire was granted a blessed reprieve from her torment.

It was at this precise moment that Sylar at last claimed Claire's dry mouth, crushing his hungry lips to hers as he came inside her hard and deep. She could feel the warm rush of his ejaculate fill her completely.

When it was all over, Sylar collapsed on top her in a tired but sated heap. Lovingly, he dotted her smooth forehead with a flurry of wet kisses. Ironically, it was the very forehead that he would not have hesitated to slice through months before.

Claire was crushed underneath the weight of his body and was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. Despite this, she refused to say a single word.

Minutes went by before the eerie hush was broken with a surprising declaration from Sylar.

"I love you, Claire." He whispered.

It took every ounce of willpower Claire Bennett possessed not to vomit in his face.

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Claire was Sylar's captive love-slave for only a week, seven short days.

But during that brief span of time he had slowly seduced her, wrecking havoc with her mind and senses over and over again. At first she had resisted, but over the course of the week, the serial killer turned ardent lover, methodically broke her spirit with his skillful mouth and body. Sylar made her feel things that she never thought possible. And as wrong as his lovemaking seemed in the beginning, toward the end, Claire had never felt so right than in his arms.

He continued to tell her he loved her, and she believed him. "Claire, all my life I've lived with this emptiness, this feeling of insignificance. But now that I have you, I've found my purpose. You are my reason for being alive, and I will never leave you."

Unbeknownst to the blissful couple, Claire's rescue was imminent. Her father, Noah had finally pin pointed their location in that dusty Montana motel, despite Sylar's efforts to put up a force field to block Molly Walker's tracking ability.

Then one lazy Sunday morning Claire's whole world came crashing down, when her father, with the Haitian in tow, unceremoniously kicked the door open to the broken down motel room.

Tears began to roll down Claire's cheeks when she suddenly gazed in horror at the expression of absolute disappointment and rage on her father's face.

Claire was thrown into a state of shock. She just couldn't believe that her own father had caught her in the throes of passion with very man who had tried to kill her. Her arms and legs were still clutched around Sylar's body. Only seconds earlier his hungry, needy mouth had been suckling at one of her breasts.

Crying out with indignation, "What the f…?" Sylar found still himself buried deep inside of Claire. The thrusts of his pelvis, which had urged Claire on to her third mind-blowing orgasm that morning, suddenly and completely ceased.

"GET OFF OF HER!" Noah Bennett bellowed furiously before raising his firearm to send a stream of bullets toward her lover.

With the Haitian's presence incapacitating him, Sylar was powerless to stop the deadly projectiles from embedding into his back. Shortly afterward, his seemingly lifeless body flopped on top of Claire's as she screamed in grief and horror.

And as much as she tried to convince Noah that what he had just seen was act of violence, they both knew deep inside that Claire had consented. She had been a willing participant.

The awful truth was clear: during the course of her short-lived captivity Claire had somehow, someway fallen in love with her subjugator.

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Two months after Sylar's remains had been shipped back to the Company, Claire Bennett had learned two things:

One – Sylar had by some means regenerated and made his escape.

Two- she was pregnant with his child.

And from the moment the pregnancy test came back positive, Claire Bennett's life ceased to be her own. Her grandmother and Mr. Linderman had seen to that.

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"Well, I believe that it's time to get this little lady upstairs." The sound of Dr. Saperstein's voice suddenly wrenched Claire out the past and placed her firmly back in the present.

"Good," Mr. Linderman said. "How long do we have before the blessed event?"

Dr. Saperstein smiled at his employer. "Judging from the intervals between contractions, Claire should be fully dilated and ready to push at any moment."

Angela Petrelli bent down to give her granddaughter a dry peck on the cheek, the most affection she had ever demonstrated towards Claire.

"Good luck, my dear. We'll be here waiting for you when it's all over."

Terrified Claire asked hurriedly, "_What_? You're not coming with me?"

Slowly Mrs. Petrelli shook her head. "No Claire, I'm not." As she continued to address Claire, a slight grimace appeared across her face. "Besides, births are so _messy, _and as we all know, I don't DO messy."

Her grandfather interjected with a smile that didn't quite reach his cold steely eyes. "Oh, you'll be all right. And we'll be right here waiting to dote on you and spoil our great-grandchild. We'll all be one big happy family, you'll see."

_Family…like hell we are! _Claire thought angrily.

Then she felt herself being pushed toward the elevator that would take her into the maternity wing where she would give birth to the spawn of Sylar, the Devil's own.

Her grandparents watched as the elevator doors closed, and when she was safely out of their view they turned to face each other.

"Angela, what we are about to witness is history in the making. That little girl of ours has no idea of the great service she is about to perform for humanity."

Beaming with pride, Mrs. Petrelli nodded in agreement. "Yes, thanks to her, we will finally have the means to eliminate greatest threat to mankind."

Linderman flashed his colleague a conspiratorial smile then said, "Too bad we will have to wait 22 years before our dream is realized. But it _will_ happen."

Angela returned the smile as she continued to listen to Linderman's self-congratulatory diatribe.

"Thank God we had the foresight to push those two together. With the false premonitions we were able to implant in Sylar's mind, and you baiting him with our very fertile granddaughter, the poor deluded fool was _tricked_ into creating the means of his own demise. One glorious day, Gabriel Gray will be destroyed and by his very own son no less. My only wish is that we can live long enough to see it."

_FIN_


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